


No One to Hold You When You Cry

by roxyryoko



Series: Drabbles in the Dark [19]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blue Lions Route, Death of a friend, F/M, Hurt and comfort, Mentioned Marianne, Non-Explicit Sex, Sexual Situations, death of a lover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24463672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxyryoko/pseuds/roxyryoko
Summary: Guess you’ll just have to be around to patch me up and see for yourself the thrilling legends of Inferno Caspar!”His laughter rumbles louder, but Hilda’s ebbs and she catches her breath. “See for myself, hmm? Just what are you insinuating, Caspar?”He grins broadly at her. “Isn’t it obvious? You gotta come travel with me after the war!”Despite good intentions, it's hard to keep promises under the cutthroat pulse of war.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Series: Drabbles in the Dark [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590193
Comments: 16
Kudos: 34
Collections: Those Who Drabble in the Dark





	No One to Hold You When You Cry

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea for this fic for awhile and I decided to write it for the prompt “hug” as a catharsis for myself.

“That’s quite a tale,” Hilda croons, snuggling deeper into Caspar’s embrace. His skin burns and sticks under her touch and the scents of sweat and sex still linger in the air, but the enamoring afterglow dismisses all her normal objections. Under her ear, his heart still hammers at a quick pace despite his even breaths that tickle hot and weighted over her cheek. She lets herself melt into the sensations, giving in to the overwhelming sense of ease—how soothing it is to know that lust not war caused the adrenaline to race through their veins.

Nights together like this with him felt endless and all too short at the same time. His compliments free her doubts—make her feel worth more than criticism. It isn’t very surprising that she can’t keep her hands off him after such acclamations and endearments. Not that Caspar seems to mind responding to her enthusiasm with his own wanton abandonment. Each shared kiss is wild yet tender as they appreciate every inch of each other, both tangible and not. Between earnest lips and worshipping hands, he never lets her forget that he finds her anything short of amazing.

Maybe she is starting to believe him.

With a content sigh, Hilda continues, “Are all your stories so grandiose, or are you just embellishing to impress me?”

Caspar chuckles into her tangled tresses. “What can I say?” he boasts. “I’ve lived a pretty impressive life.”

“Maybe or maybe you’re lying.” Her tone holds her smirk even if he can’t see it.

“Ah, cmon, you know I don’t lie.” He shifts so their gazes meet.

Hilda hums and nuzzles her nose against his. “Right. Exaggerating the truth isn’t lying.”

Caspar arcs a brow and returns her good-humored tease. “ _You_ would know.”

“Hey!” She pouts, puffing out her bottom lip as far as possible, which earns laughter from Caspar.

Unexpectedly, he pounces at her, decorating her cheeks and chin with kisses until she can’t force the frown any longer and instead joins him in silly, lighthearted laughter.

“Guess you’ll just have to be around to patch me up and see for yourself the thrilling legends of Inferno Caspar!”

His laughter rumbles louder, but Hilda’s ebbs and she catches her breath. “See for myself, hmm? Just what are you insinuating, Caspar?”

He grins broadly at her. “Isn’t it obvious? You gotta come travel with me after the war!”

“A romantic getaway, eh?”

“Not...exactly. We’ll just wake up in the morning and pick a direction. Do whatever we want, whatever feels right in the moment. Or do nothing at all, just lie around all day.” Caspar runs his hands hastily down her back and grasps her rear with a hard squeeze that knocks her hips into his thighs. His tone peaks into a growl as he adds, “Doing this.”

Hilda wraps her arms tighter around his shoulder, pressing her chest against his and delights in his faint gasp. “We better be staying at the most luxurious inns then.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure _sometimes_.” His lips trail up her neck to the corner of her chin, where they linger with a slow, reverent love bite that elicits soft moans from Hilda. Her long nails dig into his shoulder blades and she tilts her head up to encourage further exploration. “But we gotta make do without that if we want to see all the best stuff.”

She frowns and pulls away with a whine, “You want me to sleep on the dirty, hard ground?”

Caspar pecks her lips and she can feel the curve of his grin. He chortles, “I‘ll be a good pillow.”

“A firm one!” she exclaims and swats his chest. As expected, his muscles are hard when her fingers impact with them.

“You’re not gonna have a choice.” Bolting suddenly, he flips them so she rests under him, his knees enclosing her thighs. He intertwines their fingers. Eyes now lustful and playful, Caspar leans forward, effectively pinning her hands into the cushions as he bears his weight into his upper body.

She cocks a coy brow and purrs, “What? Are you going to kidnap me? That doesn’t sound very befitting of Mr. Justice.”

“You’re gonna come with me! I’ve made up my mind and I’m too stubborn to change it!”

“My brother would hunt you down with his axe.”

Hilda rocks her hips against his and Caspar’s breath hitches ever so slightly as he replies, “I can take him.”

His mouth finds her shoulder, then her collarbone, then her breast, moving in unpredictable patterns that leave her bruised, wet, and wanting. Hilda groans in pleasure, and strains to sound nonchalant under his titillating ministrations. “What are the perks? Besides fantastic sites and the thrill of adventure?”

“Great sex,” he gloats before he claims her mouth in a ravishing kiss, tongue pushing her lips apart to taste her further. Hilda returns the intimacy, tagging her tongue against his, swallowing his bottom lip up in hungry maneuvers that leave her breathless when he pulls away. He offers a preening smirk and lowers his face again.

Right before their lips meet, her words halt him. With faux contemplation, she challenges, “Is it though?”

He releases an offended huff. “Hey! Are you trying to say you don’t think it is?”

“I may need another demonstration.” Hilda opens her legs up as invitation and Caspar wastes no time grinding against her, sparking a fervent response. She matches his rhythm and trails her hands over his strong back muscles and through his short hair, adorning his neck with a complimentary bruise.

In a smug, husky voice he proclaims, “I think the way you were crying my name just a few minutes ago proves you thought it was pretty great, but no sweat, I’m always, _always_ game for another go.” Hilda gasps as he sinks into her and he quickly throws her legs over his shoulders. “You’re gonna be begging me to fuck you on the dirty, hard ground.”

He catches her mouth in another searing kiss before he rocks her into the pillows.

* * *

“It’s sunrise,” Hilda chokes, burrowing deeper into Caspar’s embrace. She releases a beleaguered cough and a heavy stream of tears slip from her eyes, stinging over bottom lids rubbed raw from blotting their predecessors. The teardrops sink into the fabric of his soaked shirt. In her ears, her heartbeat echoes at a wail, intolerably loud and persistent, competing with the relentless pulse in her throat. Her temples scream, agony shooting like lightning through her head, but the pain can’t drown out the memories and the insufferable feeling of loss.

_Marianne hung cold and lifeless in Dimitri’s shaking hands, blood trickling down her tousled, loose braids, crimson dotting the rose quartz studded pins that clung precariously to a few strands. Not many hours prior, Hilda had weaved together Marianne’s luscious hair, securing each plait with those ornate pins, up and out of the way so she could work efficiently, safe from distraction. Just a small gesture intended to keep her from harm._

Hilda screws her eyes even tighter, but the image remains. Her nails score sores into Caspar’s back, but he doesn’t complain. Instead, he flexes his arms even tighter around her, clutching her just as tight as the week’s previous nights in war tents and during sleepless marches.

Throughout it all, Caspar offered an ear to her grievances, even if he could barely make out her words amongst her guilt-infested sobs, and encouraged her to let herself feel all the raw emotions.

“D-don’t you have training?” she manages to ask, afraid he’ll leave her side. She can’t bear to be alone right now, even if it’s such a selfish want.

“You haven’t slept yet,” Caspar replies drowsily, voice muffled under her sea of pink hair. “Not going anywhere until you do.”

His statement offers some relief. She inhales a deep, ragged breath and admits a truth both are certainly aware of, “I can’t sleep.”

He’s silent a moment.

“I know.”

“You’re going to get restless laying around with me all day,” she sniffs.

Caspar kisses her cheek and sighs, his exhaustion echoing in the release. “Doesn’t matter. You’re worth it, Hilda.”

Despite her best effort, Hilda can’t hold in her whimper. Another tear falls. “Why wasn’t Marianne w-worth…” She can’t finish the sentence, guilt stabbing her deep in the heart.

Marianne was worth so much more than a lazy, irresponsible, selfish girl like Hilda. Countless times she had told her friend she wouldn’t die for someone else. Yet when Hilda’s wyvern was shot from the sky Marianne had rode into the fray, risking her own life in the exact way Hilda wouldn’t offer up herself.

“Marianne thought you were worth it, too,” Caspar states and places a hand on her cheek, using his index finger to massage her throbbing temple. Hilda shakes and hides her face against his neck.

The uncontrollable sorrow overwhelms her again, along with its accompanying weeping, coughing, and choking. Caspar holds her firm and eases the tension in her head with rhythmic circles until his hand stills and he finally succumbs to his own fatigue. It soothes slightly while it lasts, but once he’s asleep, the loneliness writhes even more wickedly in her chest.

Eventually she cries herself to sleep. It’s restless and all too soon interrupted by a loud crash which jolts her awake.

Pulse thumping impossibly fast, she scavenges around the room to find Caspar stumbling off her windowsill. He stares with a grimace at the new residents of the chronically littered floor: two overdue library books, an assortment of mismatched jewelry, and a broken vase.

He dares a glance in her direction and grins sheepishly when he catches her eye.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Locked myself out.”

Hilda squints at him as a dizzy spell causes her to teeter. She grips her temple and closes her sore eyes, trying to still the thoughts jostling around hazily in her head. “So you climbed in the window instead of knocking?”

“Didn’t want to wake you, but I guess that didn’t work out so well.”  
  
Hilda frowns and a spark of anger courses through her veins. She chides, “You could have fallen! We’re on the second floor!”  
  
“It was kinda fun! I got to peak into Hubert’s and Edelgard’s rooms and— “

“Caspar!” Hilda shouts and her voice hitches on the second syllable. Tears prick her eyes again. “Please! Don’t do something stupid like that again.”

Caspar clamps his mouth shut and remains silent for a moment before replying with a sad smile, “You got it, Hilda. I won’t. Promise.”

He rises off the windowsill and tidies the mess he caused, taking haphazard guesses at where the items belonged and kicking the vase shards safely into a corner. Once complete, he strolls to her door and opens it. From the hallway floor he retrieves a tray with a teacup, kettle, and a plate full of cut fruit and small pastries.

“Anyway, I brought you something to eat.”

He drags Hilda’s desk chair to her bedside and places the tray on the seat. Next, he lifts the kettle and pours the steaming tea into the cup. The cascade of the rose-tinted liquid is slightly memorizing under her heavy eyelids.

“Here, drink this,” he says in between blows to cool the beverage. “Mercedes said it will help you sleep better.”

Caspar offers the teacup to her and Hilda lifts a hand to take it, but she stops when her gaze falls on the remainder of the breakfast.

“Hilda,” Caspar calls gently after a long moment, no doubt acutely aware of the tears glistening in her eyes.

Hilda blinks and drags a hand under her puffy eyes, causing her lashes to scrape uncomfortably on the raw skin. “Sorry,” she mumbles, tone betrayed by a sob. “It’s just that…that those sweets…they’re the same Marianne…would bring me.”

She notices Caspar’s guilty frown before she hides her face in her hands and hears a clink as he sets the teacup back down. The bed sinks on one side, and then Caspar’s arms lock around her, crushing her to his chest. Instantly, she relents to the comfort, grappling for the fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t leave me too, Caspar,” she begs, wetting his neck with hot tears.

He squeezes her. “Not a chance, Hilda.”

* * *

“Why’d you stop?” Hilda asks, clinging limply in Caspar’s embrace. Caspar kisses her cheek before disentangling their limps. Hilda frowns but doesn’t protest as her legs fall to the bed and he rolls off her, tucking himself against her side.

“You’re not into it,” he explains, and his voice holds no blame. One of his hands, warm and comforting despite the callouses, cups her cheek, caressing it gently.

Feeling shame, she averts her gaze. Undoubtedly, he must be disappointed with the course of the evening.

“Sorry,” she says in a low voice.

Caspar shrugs. “It’s fine.”

“I can finish you.” She turns to her side and reaches a hand down under the comforter, fingers grazing over his naval before he catches her wrist. He meets her gaze when she jerks her head up in shock.

“It’s fine.”

“You should take advantage of the opportunity. I’m offering a rare favor, after all,” she tries to chirp, but the tease comes out monotone.

He smiles weakly and brings her hand up to his lips. A quick peck lands on her knuckles before he repeats, “It’s fine. Really, Hilda.”

Hilda lays her head back onto the pillow, still unable to believe him. “Sorry. I know I’m not any fun lately.”

Caspar’s smile turns smug and he hums, “Good thing I’m fun enough for the both of us.”

“You say that, but eventually you’ll get bored or annoyed with me. I’m sure you’re disappointed now even though you’re insisting you’re ‘fine.’”

Caspar shakes his head. “Seriously, I don’t mind, Hilda.” He rubs sweet circles atop her hand. “I’ll wait as long as I gotta to see you smile with all your heart again.”

“That might be forever,” she whispers solemnly.

“Good thing I’m so stubborn!” Caspar beams a wide grin at her. “Cuz I’m gonna love you forever.”

His words take her by surprise and she can only gape. She swears her heart stops.

Finally, she asks, “You…you love me?” Skepticism saturates her tone.

He smiles wider. “Yup.”

Within a flash, Hilda throws herself against him, clutching onto his neck and drawing him into a besotted kiss. Since Marianne’s death, tears seem to fall everyday from her eyes, but for the first time in several moons she sheds these in joy.

“I hope that means you love me, too,” he simpers, breathless when they finally part.

Hilda frantically nods, a smile pulling at her lips. He catches sight of it and returns a wider, goofier smile.

She clears her crying with a sniff and dabs away the tears. “I love you, Caspar,” Hilda confirms, voice giddy with a giggle.

This time Caspar pulls her into an enamored, smothering kiss, breaking it only to laugh when she tugs at his sides, urging him back over her.

“Make love to me,” she whispers, lips ghosting over his. “Not like the other times. Tell me you love me and that I’m yours and only yours. Over and over. Please, Caspar.”

His eyes flicker in conflict, lust hesitating against sympathy. In an effort to encourage his advance and ebb his doubts, she kisses him again, slow and languid.

Earlier she hadn’t felt this salacious passion, but his admission had awoken something in her, severed the darkness just a little and brought levity to the sorrow that haunts her. She pours her heart into the kiss, hoping that through it she can express what’s too difficult to say.

It seems to be convincing. Impatiently, he wraps her leg over his hip and proceeds to roll against her, spiking her desire further. Once they are both ready, he enters her again, arms squeezing her tight against him.

“I love you,” Caspar says so sincerely, so sweetly that her heart flutters. “You’re my girl, Hilda.”

She smiles, brighter and wider than before, a mirror of his own. Perhaps even a smile with all her heart etched into it. Eagerly, she claims his lips and conforms to his rhythm.

Caspar returns her sensual kisses for what seems like hours, gasping contently into her mouth and rocking into her at an unusually slow, but completely savoring pace. “I love you’s” tumble from his lips constantly, growing louder and bolder with each confession. He tells her he’s hers forever and she’s his as long as she wants to be. She whispers back her own endearments and appreciation, desperate to convince him she wants to be his love forever too.

When the euphoria swells and she moans his name into the night, he cheers, “That’s my girl!”

She punches his shoulder, but he just snickers and bucks more adamantly, earning delighted whimpers from her lips.

“I’ve missed hearing you say my name like that!” he continues in a growl. “Let’s see if I can make you shout it again!”

* * *

“Caspar, you liar,” Hilda sobs, clutching his robe tight as if it could ever substitute Caspar’s embrace. The scent of his cinnamon soaps still lingers on the side of the pillow he so often occupied and Hilda inhales it, desperate for any sign that he once held her here, once whispered compliments and adorations; once proclaimed he loved her.

Now the scent and the words hang like ghosts in the air.

_“I know you like watching me fight, but promise not to watch this one, okay?” Caspar stressed, cupping her chin with a trembling hand, lightly swiping her tears away with a thumb. She clung to him, determined to hold him in place even if every muscle in her body screamed in pain, even if one arm fell limp in shambles._

_“No, no, no!” she repeated over and over and over, continuing the plea as he pried her fingers off Freikugel and clutched his own around the shaft, drawing it away from her broken arm._

_He didn’t listen. He didn’t stop, but Hilda wasn’t going to give up. Not this time._

_“Caspar, you can’t! You don’t have a crest! You’ll turn—you’ll…” She couldn’t bare to speak the thought. He was reckless, yes, but even he could listen to reason._

_Caspar held her gaze a long moment before he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her tenderly and chastely._

_“I know,” he confirmed with a sigh and leaned his forehead on hers. “You’re worth it, Hilda.” She shook her head, tears pouring without end._

_With a forced smile, he rose. Hilda fumbled forward, clutching the tail of his robe in a futile attempt to stop him, but Mercedes’s arms wrapped around her waist and restrained her easily. She whispered her best attempts at comforts as her own voice quavered with sorrow. Hilda squirmed, but her injuries rendered her too weak to pry the bishop off._

_Caspar’s lips twitched for a moment and his eyes glistened with regretful tears before he turned around. The Imperial soldiers were so close now, Count Bergliez leading the way, slashing Kingdom soldier after Kingdom soldier into disembodied limps and puddles of blood. The army would be upon the medical battalion in moments, determined to weaken their enemy by eliminating their chance to recover._

_Roaring a warning and brandishing the relic high over his head, Caspar surged into the fray._

“You liar,” Hilda repeats, convulsing in sobs at the memory.

Hilda hated people expecting much from her, but she had turned that around so easily with Caspar. It felt so natural to trust that he was infallible and would come through with a smile on anything. Silly little Hilda to expect so much. She knew very well how much it hurt when a promise shattered.

He promised to take her on an adventure.

He promised not to do anything stupid again.

He promised not to leave her like Marianne.

He promised to love her forever.

“You liar.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated.


End file.
